Slehom and Stawon
by GiraffePanda2
Summary: A cute little one shot I came up with. It's originally a school assignment. We had to write a short story. Hope you enjoy! It's AU, based off Sherlock and Watson, but kind of not really.


**So this was just a reading assignment I had to do, it was a short story, and I found it humorous so I thought I would share it with you. It's based off the BBC Sherlock. Well, it's based of Sherlock Holmes, but there's almost sort of a mention of Sherlock in it. See if you can guess who Shelby is!**

**I made this story up, but it is based off Sherlock.**

"And Don't Call Me Shirley."

Anne Stone unlocked the door of the Low's house, officially beginning her job as their new nanny, taking the kids from and to school, cooking meals for the kids: Sara, Ian and Grace. "Hello" Um, it's me, Anne Stone? I'm your new nanny?" Hesitating, she enters the living room. Anne breathes easy when she spots the back of Mr. Low's head. "Oh, there you are." Anne goes around the couch to face him. It only takes a moment for everything to click, and Anne takes that moment to scream. Sobbing hysterically, she grabbed for her phone, and dialed 911. Talking with an operator, who tried to calm her down, Anne quickly rattled off the address, and then rushed outside. The police arrived 7 minutes later. Mr. Low was dead.

The Head Detective of San Francisco Police Department grimaces as he observes the crime scene. "Hey Frank!" his partner, Charles, called out to him. "There's some visitor here, says she works with ya?" Frank turns around to see a young girl, no less than 17, dressed in an almost Victorian white blouse, with ruffles down the front. It was tucked into black slacks and she wore an almost elegant black leather jacket. The whole appeal was quite grown-up, but the girl wore red, worn down sneakers which ruined the effect. She was accompanied by an older man, who looked like a working stiff. He had blue eyes and short black hair. The girl had long wavy ebony hair, with bright green eyes. "Ah, Detective Franklin, remember me? You worked together with my father and me, back in London." Recognition lit up the detective's eyes. "Of course! Ms. Shelby! I got your emails, explaining what you will be doing, but who is this?" He looked at her companion with distaste, and in fact, so did she. "This is my…therapist." Shelby said quietly. The man smiled humorlessly and shook Frank's hand warmly. "Dr. Jonathan Stawon, I'm a psychologist, not a therapist. Shelby's uncle forced-I mean, employed me to 'guide' Shelby as she's all alone in a new city." Frank shrugged and gestured for Shelby to enter the crime scene. She eagerly ducked under the tape and Frank, Charles, and Dr. Jon entered behind her. Shelby tied her hair back, and snapped on some gloves. She quickly placed her hands, trying to match the handprints on the victim's neck. "Just like her father," Frank muttered, shaking his head. Shelby got up and studied the bookcase-she grabbed and flipped through a couple of books with bright pink covers. Dr. Jon stayed back, almost like a small child trying to eavesdrop. Shelby quickly circled the room, ending up standing over the broken lamp lying on the floor. She carefully lifted it up, testing its weight. She smiled smugly and then breathed in deep through her nose. Turning on her heel, she faces them. "It was the daughter, Sara I believe her name is. They had an argument, and after he dismissed her, she snuck up on him and struck him with the lamp. She then attacked him, strangling him and therefor, ending her father's life." Shelby stalked out of the room, leaving behind a stunned doctor, and Charles. Frank just laughed and then nodded his head, "Yup, definitely her father's daughter."

"Wait!" Charles called out to her. "How did you do that?" Shelby frowned and sighed wearily. She turned to face Charles and answered him in a cold and stern tone. "Sara Low has a boyfriend, now fiancé if my calculations are right, but her father disapproved of him, and so when he heard of their little 'infatuation' he banned her from seeing him ever again. Sara, feeling tortured without living with the love of her life," Shelby's words were more cold and cruel, "decided to not end her own, but to end the one thing keeping her from him. Her father. Of course she thought that her fiancé will still except a murderer as a wife, she obviously reads too many romance novels, just look at the shelves! It wasn't the wife, no the perfume said that-" "Perfume?" Dr. Jon asked, confused. "Yes, perfume. It was fruity, girly, and Sara applied too much. It still lingered in the air. If it was the wife, it would have been much more refined, polished, and less noticeable. Also, no wedding ring mark on the victim's throat. No, the hand marks fitted my hands almost perfectly, and since Sara is a teen, 17, am I correct? Her hands should be congruent with mine, unless she has freakishly large hands." With those last words she whistled for a cab, which didn't come until Dr. Jon sighed and called out taxi for her. With one last wave of her hand, Shelby and Dr. Jon were gone.

"Sir?" Charles asked him, "Who in the_ heck_, was that?!" Frank laughed and answered, "That, my dear friend, is the daughter of the world's greatest detective ever to live." "No!" Charles gasped, "No way that's!-"

_In the Cab-_

"That was done in 10 minutes." Dr. Jon told Shelby. "8 minutes 45 seconds." She answered back nonchalantly. "I've seen better." "Your father?" He asked her. Shelby glared at him and replied, "You know well enough I don't get along with him. And that I would appreciate it if you don't mention him. Ever." The psychiatrist gave her an exasperated look and protested. "Listen, I know that you and your father were not on 'friendly' terms-" "Are." "What?" He asks her, looking confused. "Are, not were, we _are _not on friendly terms. Present tense." "Shelby…" Dr. Jon started, not knowing how to say it. "Your father has been dead for 2 years now, isn't time you excepted it?" Quick as a snake, she turned to him, "No!" Shelby snapped, anger showed in her usually expressionless face. "You understand one thing, and one thing only _Dr_. Jon. My. Father. Is. Not. Dead." Her bright green eyes practically pierced through his heart, acting like lasers. Dr. Jon stuttered and nodded weakly. Glad to see he understood, Shelby leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.

_Back at the Crime Scene-_

"Yes I do Charlie, yes I do." Frank nodded with humor in his voice. "**That** was the daughter of the greatest detective to ever grace the earth." "Surely, you must be joking!" Frank chuckled. "No I'm not. That was Shelby Slehom, daughter of the late Derrick Slehom." With that explanation he whisked away to his car and opened the door He asked his partner who was standing by with an astonished look on his face. "Charley?" "Yes sir?"

"Be careful with that one." Frank slammed his door shut. "And don't call me Shirley!"

**I really love this story, I really do!**

**~Shirley, Celia, Megan and Toby~**

**(GiraffePanda2)**


End file.
